


From the Dumpster Rises an Exquisite Flame: PKMN SWSH Fic Collection

by andromedarune



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: AUs, Angst, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Imagines, M/M, One-Shots, Requests, goofs and gaffs sometimes, headcanons, prompts, tags and stuff added as they apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedarune/pseuds/andromedarune
Summary: I'm hopping on this bandwagon! Send in requests for any of the characters I'm good to write and let's have a grand time!Make sure the read the request page (Chapter 1) before submitting a request. This should be interesting...[STATUS: Closed]
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Hop, Dande | Leon/Reader
Comments: 30
Kudos: 44





	1. Request Page

Hi! I’m really trying to stretch my writing muscles a bit more, so I’m gonna try my hand at taking requests for PKMN stuff. Lots of other people are doing it, too, right now, so I thought “why the fuck not? Lolol” I’ll be doing this on both my AO3 and my Tumblr (both under the same name, andromedarune), so submit your requests either to my ask box or in the comment section!

NOTE: I’m currently only allowing requests for certain characters. I am a picky, cruel bastard, I know. But I’d rather write about characters I actually care about rather than half-ass an imagine for someone. Just how it goes, mate. The list might change as time goes on, so please check before submitting your request.

Characters I’ll write: Leon, Piers (!!!!), Raihan, Nessa, Sonia, Hop, Bede, Gloria/Victor, Marnie.

**Guidelines for Requests:**

  * One request per comment. Send as many comments as you like, but don’t write every imagine idea you have in one comment, because I am an idiot and will most definitely lose track of that shit. Please keep it easy for my tiny peanut brain.
  * Feel free to get specific! I really want to flex my writing muscles with some ideas that I can’t come up with myself, so try not to just say “write a Leon story” - get saucy, my dudes.
  * Ask for specific gendered writing. I generally write from the female perspective (just a personal preference), so please mention if you’d like a male or non-binary story. Otherwise, I’ll just assume female bc that’s what I normally write.
  * If you find a prompt-list that you’d like to see me go through, send it my way! Make sure you let me know whose it is and where you found it so I can credit them, too! 
  * If you want me to include canonically underage characters (which includes: Hop, Gloria/Victor, Marnie, Bede, Allister, Bea...), keep it pure. No ships between kids and adults, nothing NSFW with them. I can handle puberty humor, but nothing explicitly… racy. Does that make sense? IDK. Just ask if you ain’t sure, I guess.
  * I’m down for NSFW for the adults - I’d like to really practice it, so please feel free to request it! Let’s get kinky, bois.
  * I have the right to turn down any request for whatever reason. Please don’t get mad if I don’t write your request - chances are, I just might be confident enough to write it, sadly. But I will definitely try my hand at everything given to me so long as they follow my little guidelines!



**What I’ll Accept:**

  * Imagines, Drabbles, Headcannons, prompts, one-shots, AUs....
  * Reader-Inserts
  * Fluff, Angst… all that good shit…
  * LGBTQ+ stuff
  * NSFW content



**What I’ll Most Definitely Refuse:**

  * Intense gore
  * Problematic/conventionally gross kinks
  * Triggering content
  * OCs



(For these, if you want to explain your idea a bit more to me, there may be a chance I could accept the idea. But otherwise, better luck somewhere else with your idea.)

ANOTHER NOTE: I’m also writing a big SWSH fanfic right now, and school is just around the corner. So, it may be a bit of a wait before your request comes to fruition. But if I haven’t declined it, chances are I’m still working on it. Be patient, please, and I will do my best to get all my requests done in a timely fashion.

And, uh, yeah, that’s about it. So what the hell are you waiting for?! Send in your idea!


	2. Raihan Imagine - Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request ~ "Ok, ok. I want this from Raihan perspective I think it falls in the category of imagine or AU I guess, since you said is more easy for you to write the female perspective, what about the idea of Raihan becoming a woman for 24 hours, so he is shocked for a bit, but then he overcomes his panic with the idea of having a day free of responsibilities, nobody would recognize him and would be able to go out without fans or haters all over him. Maybe do a bit of mischief. I hope is okay."
> 
> Y'all have no idea how excited I was to write this - I'm not sure I executed this idea as well as I could have but WHATEVER! It was fun to write, dag nabbit! So, enjoy this sweet little imagine of Raihan waking up with titties.

Morning came softly, his mind slowly reviving from the depths of slumber in a blurry fashion. It was always a welcome sensation, processing the world and your sensations without a loud alarm blaring in your ear, hurriedly thrusting you into a world of loud stimuli and expectations. Which is the main reason why Raihan loved the weekends; slow, easy-going, relaxing. Even he needed his quiet moments. So, the gym leader took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of his chest rising and falling as he kept his eyes closed a little longer. Soft satin sheets curled seductively around his bare form, making it hard to discern where his body ended and the bed began. Not like that really mattered at the moment. No, as he flipped over, sweeping his arms underneath his pillow for extra cuddling action, he reminded himself that this was his well-deserved rest, that nothing should get in the way of his rewarding day of sleep. Raihan snuggled a bit deeper into his mattress, eager to find the perfect position of comfort.

Huh, it’s a little awkward to sleep like this. He adjusted his body a bit more, but he couldn’t help but feel some constriction on his chest. A little tight. Kind of hard to breath. He groaned, reluctantly pushing himself up to get a breath of air. Strange; he felt a little, well, top heavy. But he was still sleepy, so he opted to lay on his side, for now. He pulled his legs in close to his body, eager to see if a fetal position would be comfy. But feeling his legs glide across each other so easily felt a bit… wrong?

Okay, something was  _ definitely _ wrong here.

He pushed himself up, letting his plush duvet tumble down his body as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly scratched his chest, only to very quickly realize that something  _ was most definitely wrong here _ . His eyes shot open. He felt a little more. Huh. He looked down. Ah. 

“Uhhhh….” was about all he could manage before bolting out of his bed, all traces of sleepiness vanishing into the nothingness as he raced into the bathroom. “What. The.  _ FUCK _ .”

He looked into the mirror, blinking a few times as he processed the unfamiliar figure that stared back at him. He was still clad in his briefs from the night before, but other than that, nothing else was really familiar. Sure, he was probably still the same height, had the same dreads (albeit maybe a bit longer?), the same dark skin, and the same blue eyes - but everything remotely familiar was completely overshadowed by the fact that he was apparently no longer a man. Every couple seconds, he would glance down to make sure he was seeing everything properly, only to shut his eyes tightly, as if he wasn’t allowed to look. Maybe he wasn’t - he didn’t know. He had no fucking clue what the hell was going on right now.

Raihan shook his head, trying in vain to steady his feverish breathing. He ran himself through everything that happened the day before: he woke up, went to work like always, trained for four hours, went to two meetings (one for the league and the other for a sponsorship opportunity), came back home, showered, went to grab a bite to eat with Leon, tended to his pokemon, hit a few clubs, got drunk, came home, passed the fuck out. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Friday night. The panic rose a little more. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arm; a jolt of pain ran through his bicep, but not much else happened. He opened his eyes and saw that this was somehow not a dream.  _ So what the FRICK FRACK PADDY WHACK was going on here?! _

He can’t go outside like  _ this _ . People would freak the hell out if they realized that he was the Great Raihan of Hammerlocke. And certainly none of his friends would believe him even if he did try to ask for help. He hardly recognized himself, so how would anybody else

He blinked. Suddenly, the panic subsided.

Nobody would recognize him. Like this, nobody would have the slightest clue that he was really the dragon-type gym leader. He was someone else entirely to the rest of the world. Which meant that all the downsides to his life no longer applied.

A devious smile worked its way onto his face, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the new feminine features. He didn’t know how long this would last, so why not make the most of it? Being an attractive man was a party in and of itself; what about as a woman? Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

It took a little getting used to; his entire center of gravity was altered completely, but with a bit of practice, the gym leader found himself moving around with a newfound ease in his changed body. He hopped in the shower, trying to find a relatively neutral emotion amid the rising embarrassment and interest at his own body as he bathed. Afterwards, he rummaged through his closet for some simple clothes that wouldn’t arouse too much attention - a simple orange T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans that suddenly didn’t seem so skinny anymore, finished with a pair of white trainers and a black jacket. Everything was just a little big yet a little tight in strange places, but upon looking in the mirror it seemed as though nothing looked terribly awkward. He looked, dare he say, quite nice. He gave himself a cheeky wink, spinning on his heels and reached for his clip of pokeballs.  _ Ah _ , he pulled back his hand, feeling a tinge of sadness,  _ that might be pushing it. Everyone would recognize my team - best to just leave them here. _ With that, he grabbed some cash and ran out the door, eager to see how the world felt from a new point of view.

Raihan as himself gathered a lot of attention. Like,  _ a lot _ . The poor man couldn’t even take a piss without someone recognizing him and trying to start up a conversation about anything. And for the most part, Raihan was okay with that. It meant he was famous. Sure, the load of hate comments he got on his social media was a bit annoying, and every now and then he had a few hecklers at his exhibition matches, but nothing he couldn’t handle. But now that he was able to walk down the street without so much as a second glance from people, a wave of newfound emotions washed over his body, far more refreshing than the nice autumn breeze that danced through Hammerlocke.  _ Freedom _ .

He pranced into a bakery, one that he had always meant to visit (it was always closed by the time he got off work, most days, and was too busy to really comfortably visit on the weekends). Immediately, he was hit with the distinct smell of bread and coffee, filling up his senses in the best of ways. A decent line was formed by the display, people peering in the find the answer to their cravings without noticing the gym leader’s presence. He could’ve cried from the beauty of it all; who knew that being a nobody would be so relaxing? After waiting in line for several minutes, it was finally his turn. Raihan stepped towards the man behind the register, instinctively putting on his casual, easy-going smile.

“W-welcome,” the cashier got a good look at Raihan, suddenly turning rather bashful. “And, uh… W-what can I get for you, um, today?”

Raihan flicked up an eyebrow, curious at the man’s behavior. Surely he didn’t recognize him, right? With those bright red cheeks and the avoidance of eye contact, something was definitely -  _ Oh, yeah. Kind of a hot chick. _ Raihan smiled a bit more, not even trying to hide his ego.

“Just a latte and a lemon cake, please.”

The cashier nodded furiously, slapping a few buttons on the cash register as fast as he could. The poor sap looked as though he was about to explode. This was about twenty times more entertaining than watching his fangirls get all flustered and embarrassed; it wasn’t often he saw a guy get so understandably disoriented in his mere presence. Fun. After a few moments, Raihan was walking away with his treasure, adding a little flourish to his steps as he excited the establishment. Raihan strode down the street, happily munching away on his cake and occasionally easing it all down with his hot coffee. 

For the first time in years, Raihan was able to walk around his own city without anybody bothering him for autographs or battles or even a conversation. Sure, he accumulated a bit of attention wherever he went, but it wasn’t anything close to the fame of being the top gym leader. Just enough eyes were on him to feed his ego, but nobody seemed to care enough to bother him. Perfection. He meandered all around the town, finding this to be the perfect time to visit all the stores and establishments he’d always wanted to see. He wandered through clothing stores (he pretended to look through the girl clothes before eventually making his way into the men’s section, but thankfully nobody seemed to care), a little nursery that apparently had a brand new litter of adorable Yamper puppies, a busy restaurant that specializes in Alolan cuisine, and even got to watch that new  _ Resident Weavile _ movie that everyone had been bashing online (it  _ was _ terrible, but the good kind of terrible) - all the things he would have otherwise never been able to do as himself. Deep down, there was a part of him that really wanted this to stick, for him to have a fresh start in this world he already knew so well and try things at a different angle. Another part of him feared that he’d never go back to his old life; his love for battling and stardom was far too grand to be satisfied with a mild life, that’s for sure. So the gym leader eventually decided that if this all would disappear, he would at least get all his desires of simplicity out of his system before he lost his chance.

The day was winding down, the sun setting beneath the horizon of old buildings and tall trees. Raihan settled down onto a bench, enjoying the crispness of the air as he watched the sunset. Things seemed to be going really good - that is until he heard cheering erupt from somewhere behind him. Immediately, he tensed up, wondering if this was the end of his day of freedom; he slowly turned around, only to be greeted with something he wasn’t expecting. A large crowd had formed down near the train station, the sheer amount of squealing fangirls giving him an idea of who exactly had made the appearance. Curious, Raihan pushed himself to his feet and wandered over to investigate.

Leon’s booming voice easily carried in the air, his laugh echoing across the tall brick buildings that populated Hammerlocke.

“Thank you all very much for your constant support!” the champion’s voice bellowed out, a tinge of exhaustion just barely noticeable to Raihan. “But I’m only here to visit a friend of mine.”

The crowd sighed dejectedly, but eventually made way for him to walk through. Raihan hesitantly came to a stop just a bit away, trying to remind himself that Leon wouldn’t recognize him like this. Just as the champion emerged from the crowd, the two locked eyes. Raihan gave a smile and waved. He expected something similar in kind.

He was not expecting Leon to full-on look away, rubbing the back of his neck with a hot blush coating his face.

_ Oh shit. _

“Hello,” Leon tried for a calm smile, but still looked plenty flustered as he approached the person he didn’t realize was his best guy friend. “Are you, perhaps, a fan?”

_ I should probably tell him _ , Raihan mulled that thought over in his mind. 

“You could say that.”

“Do you want an autograph? I don’t mind sparing an extra league card for a special fan!”

Raihan nearly burst out laughing. But he didn’t, mainly because he at least gave Leon credit for using the icebreaker he had told him to use a few months back. Leon was always so terrible with women, and  _ now _ he was, flirting with someone who only looked female. Oh, the  _ embarrassment _ Leon would be feeling if only he knew…

“Ooo, so I’m special, huh? I’m honored, Mr. Champion~.”

Leon blushed some more, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a card and a pen that he always carried with him. This was totally fucked up, but Raihan let himself enjoy the moment as his unknowing best friend scribbled his autograph on a league card with hearts in his eyes. Raihan gave a wink as he took the card between his two fingers. He watched in cruel joy as Leon fumbled with a farewell, nearly stumbling over himself as he walked back down the street. This would definitely be a memory that Raihan would never forget.

The gym leader walked home not long after that, still snickering to himself over the escapades of the day. He snuck back to his apartment, hoping to keep himself from raising eyebrows from his neighbors as he slipped into the safety of his home. It was dark, and a soft light from his phone on his bed caught his attention just before he turned on the lights. The gym leader picked up the device; several missed calls, a bunch of unread messages, and perhaps a thousand various social media notifications. He skimmed all the notifications, surprised to find himself so surprised that people were curious at his sudden silence online. Various fans commented on his posts, many of which he recognized to be long-term fans of his work all noting how Raihan was never absent from the online-life. People he had never even met were genuinely worried about him. He looked at the calls. Most were work-related, a few numbers he sort of recognized as being some officials from the league that he never bothered to save their contact information; many were from Leon and some of the other gym leaders. His stomach rumbled with a small guilt. It’s a little harder to be ambivalent when it’s your friends who are worried, as well. He pulled up the messages, noting that most of them were the sporadic and short-fire messages from Leon (go figure), asking him where he was and if everything was alright. Raihan only paused for a moment to laugh when Leon mentioned meeting a beautiful woman earlier in the day. With a deep sigh, Raihan took the time to reply to the messages, eventually moving on to post a quick text update for his social media pages regarding his absence; everything was fine, he just wanted to be off the grid for a while. Comments flowed in, for once all positive. Raihan smiled, resting back into the warm confines of his bed. He had grown so accustomed to this body already, but he knew that he would be ready to return to his well-earned life as a gym leader sometime soon. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander a bit more as sleep began to claim him bit by bit. Even if he remained in this body forever, Raihan was certain that he much preferred the life of a star more than the life of a simple human. It was just how he was wired - nothing wrong with either lifestyle, of course. He smiled at that thought.

When morning arrived the next day, all was back to normal. Now, Raihan only had to figure out how he was going to face Leon again without busting into a fit of laughter.


	3. Bede x Hop - Just Desserts, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request ~ "I have one, it’s a hop x bede where bede feels bad for being mean to hop, but is too scared of apologizing to him in fear of rejection. Due to his past at the orphanage and his overall fear of being left alone again. So he decides to send homemade desserts to hop with secret messages ,anonymously . Hop Figures it out when the desserts stop coming after bede gets sick badly ( maybe a bad fever from exhaustion, anything that stops him from baking will do). You can include opal or the other gym leaders teasing hop on who could be sending the treats. I hope this is okay."
> 
> This particular fic wasn't supposed to be so long, but I, uh... got a bit overzealous, haha.... So I'm cutting it in half and making it a 2 parter! I hope that's alright! The second part should be coming up in a few days - it's almost done, I just needed a sanity check, haha. So here you go~!

The third time Hatterene hissed at him from across the room, Bede figured that he needed a better distraction. Obviously pacing wasn’t doing much to ease the frustration in his gut. The boy sighed, pausing to fix his neatly ironed white button-up shirt before turning on his heels and walking out the room. There were better things he could be doing with his time, anyways. 

Things certainly have changed for the boy ever since he joined the gym challenge that fateful day. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. But he allowed himself a moment of gratitude, despite his usual vocalizations of annoyance in his current position in life, at how it was only a year ago that he was sitting in a poverty-stricken orphanage with a bunch of abhorrent adults pitying him every day. But he’d never let anybody know that, of course. The last thing he needed was people pitying him again; that was even more annoying than people trying to be his friend all the time. People could be so bothersome, it was  _ sickening. _

Bede made his way down the hall, unconsciously tip-toeing past Ms. Opal’s bedroom, where she no doubt was resting. Her age seems to finally be catching up with her, these days, since she seemed to be taking more naps than normal. The boy made sure not to comment about it. He didn’t need a lecture from that crazy old bag. Once clear, he made a sharp turn, stepping down the spiral staircase to find himself in the empty dining room. Once upon a time, large parties were held here, no doubt filled with beautifully rich people mingling to some classical music. Thankfully, no such nonsense happened here anymore, which meant Bede had relative free-reign of the house so long as he didn’t cause trouble. He meandered around the long mahogany table, keeping his steps as quiet as possible against the old wooden floorboards, and he made his way into the kitchen. 

For years, the only thing Bede could reliably use for stress-relief had been battling. All his frustrations could come loose, he could speak his mind, and relish in the cool, refreshing glow of a victory after everything was said and done. Of course he would end up being pretty damn good at it, after so much dedication and practice. But then he joined the gym challenge, and that all went to pot. Suddenly, he started losing battles. Him? Losing a  _ pokemon battle _ ?! He had never even considered that to be a possibility before, but it was happening. Each and every battle suddenly became so personal, finding every possible weakness in his opponent to expose it and attain yet another beautiful victory. And for most opponents, it worked, and he hardly wasted another thought on the matter. But not  _ all _ of them left his mind.

Bede frowned, crossing his arms with a huff as he leaned against the counter. These pesky feelings were really getting annoying. Maybe all these sweet-natured and emotional fairy-types were starting to affect him in more ways than one. He ran a hand through his curly locks as if the motion would magically clear his mind. It didn’t.

Well, there still is  _ one _ thing that might ease his tensions. The youth dug through the kitchen, picking out some of the things he would need, and began his work.

Baking was a guilty pleasure of his, something only his pokemon and Ms. Opal knew about (and she only knew because she caught him in the middle of the night). The only reason he ever considered giving it a shot was because he had a serious sweet tooth, but growing up poor meant that it was hard to buy all those fancy cakes and cookies he longed for in the big bakeries of Wyndon. So he started making them himself. At first, everything was incredibly inedible, but he was stubborn about it. He collected books and articles about baking - all in secret - and eventually became good enough to where he figured that his confectionaries rivaled that of big businesses in the region. He’d probably make a killing off selling them, but he’d never even consider that possibility. The boy would probably die of embarrassment if anybody else found out about his skill in baking. It was bad enough being the fairy king of Ballonlea (as people seemed to be calling him, nowadays); he didn’t need people thinking he was some sweet-hearted weakling, either. 

By the time he was whisking away the batter, his Sylveon pranced in, eager to try to steal a taste. The pink pokemon purred at his thigh, wrapping its ribbon-like appendages around his waist while he tried to ignore them.

“ _ Don’t _ ,” Bede snapped at the pokemon. “I’m  _ not _ giving you any more batter.”

Sylveon barked, attempting to stand on its hind legs to blast a classic Baby Doll Eyes on it’s trainer. It’s not very effective.

“Sylveon.”

The pokemon pouted, slinking off to a corner to watch with a pitiful expression. Bede clicked his tongue, returning to his work in order to avoid falling for Sylveon’s little trap. The last thing he needed was Sylveon getting sick again. The boy worked in near complete silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional bang of a pan or a utensil against the countertop. He didn’t need to bother putting on an apron beforehand; he’s practically perfected his routine to where he hardly ever makes a mess, and if he does, he cleans it up right away. It was lazy to continue working in a dirty station. He eventually pours the dark chocolate batter into a circular pan, carefully tucking it into the preheated oven to cook. 

Ah, yes, the time he hated the most -  _ waiting _ . Thankfully, it wasn’t some giant, triple-decker cake that would need an eternity to cook; just forty minutes would suffice. He tidied up the kitchen a bit, washing some of the utensils and bowls he had borrowed before his mind started to wander yet again. He reached for the whisk when that terrible sensation in his gut suddenly slapped into him again, nearly forcing him down to his knees. The whisk tumbled down into the soapy water, sinking the bottom with a soft  _ clank _ . Bede bit his lip, trying to keep his mind focused on the present. He didn’t have time to be wallowing in the mistakes of the past - he was better than that.

But still it remained. A bothersome guilt pulled him from the depths of his stomach, reminding him all the bitter words and heartless accusations he had thrown at so many people over the years. He thought that all of his training and efforts under Ms. Opal would be enough to push all those thoughts away, but they only increased with every day that went by. Though the world seemed to be forgiving him, he couldn’t help but hear the whispers of disdain amid the crowd with every match he participated in. It wasn’t like him to care about anybody else’s opinion. But here he was, running through every possible way he could make amends to the world. How pitiful. Bede shook his head.  _ There’s no way to make everybody happy with me _ , he reminded himself,  _ so just focus on being better. _ He was right; he couldn’t make amends with everyone, he couldn’t make everyone he hurt suddenly happy. But as Bede reached down for the whisk one more time, he couldn’t resist the want in his chest to try and reach out for the person he had hurt the most.

Yeah, that really wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Bede near slapped himself in the face. What was he even thinking? Reaching out to someone like  _ that _ ?! Pathetic. He should be ashamed that his brain even came up with such a worthless idea. With another huff, the boy finished the dishes, moving some more things out from the cabinets to begin making the icing. It would be a travesty to put simple whipped cream icing on a chocolate cake, so Bede started working himself through a familiar buttercream recipe. Which was fine; everybody likes buttercream. Well, everyone with a soul likes buttercream. At least in Bede’s opinion.

The oven dinged not too long after. The boy paused his work to pull out the aromous dessert, setting it delicately on the middle shelf of the brand-new blast chiller that he received as a gift from Ms. Opal. He returned to the icing, popping in some pastel pink dye for reasons. The task would likely be complete by the time the cake was an acceptable temperature. He had done this a thousand times. Everything was second-nature, at this point.

Soon enough, it was his favorite part of the process. He scooped all of the icing and stuffed it into a frosting bag, pulled out the cake, and began his work. Out of the entire process, the icing was his favorite. Delicate, precise, no room for error. His mind would go completely blank as his hands did all the work, sculpting elegant rose designs along the sides of the cake. Never anything too elaborate (not that he couldn’t make it fancy, of course), never anything too plain. A perfect work of art - a declaration of love, if you will. But perhaps that was an interpretation that only Bede could recognize, much less appreciate. Finally, it was complete, sitting before him in all its beautiful, delicious glory. Sylveon trotted back up to its trainer, trying to stand up a little taller to get a better look at the result. Bede stared down at the cake, unsure how to feel. It was just what he envisioned. No doubt it would taste as good as it looked, probably even better. He poured his emotions into making this work of art, as he always had. But why did he always hesitate? Hadn’t he made this for himself to eat?

Bede shook his head, trying to hold back the trembling sigh from his lips. He wandered back to the kitchen to wash his hands, Sylveon watching with a perplexed expression. When the pokemon called for his attention, he finally slumped forward, leaning against the counter with his eyes slammed shut.

“I can’t do it,” he scoffed, unsure of who he was even talking to. “I do this every time, and I  _ still can’t do it _ .”

Sylveon returned to his side, pressing a wet nose against Bede’s elbow. The boy absentmindedly reached down for the lovely creature, running his hands through the soft fur in hopes that it would ease his frustrations. 

There was one other reason that Bede baked. He had always thought that food was the way to someone’s heart, especially sweets. Surely it would be enough to earn someone’s forgiveness, as well. 

But the idea of actually  _ doing _ that was terrifying. There was simply no way he could head all the way down to the laboratory in Wedgehurst, knock on the door with his heart in his hands, and beg for forgiveness from the person he had been  _ so sure  _ that he hated with every fiber of his being. And why? Because he was jealous? Confused? Like anybody would believe that nonsense. Even the thought of looking into those brilliant golden eyes again filled him with so much anxiety that it was difficult to breathe. Even  _ thinking _ that person’s name would be a death sentence for Bede’s decrepit heart. Did he even still have one? Surely he must - all these pesky emotions had to be coming from  _ somewhere _ . You would think that years of self-inflicted bitterness and anger would wring that stuff out of you, but apparently not.

Sylveon nudged his trainer yet again. Deep magenta eyes peered down, still trying to seem irritated with the pokemon’s constant interruptions.

“What?” he frowned.

The pokemon just stared up at him, that hopeful twinkle in its eyes gleaming with just a hint of… knowingness? The boy flicked up an eyebrow. 

“You’re not serious,”

Sylveon barked happily.

“Most  _ definitely _ not.”

A whine. Bede ran another hand through his hair, shaking his head. There was  _ no way _ his pokemon was going to convince him to do something so  _ childish _ . Right?

And yet, there he was, standing in front of the Wedgehurst Pokemon Laboratory, simple white box in his trembling hands. A small pink envelope rested on the top of the box, devoid of any signature or address. Just a quick drop-off gift to ease his conscience a little, nothing more. Sure, he had spent nearly three hours writing a letter - constantly writing then rewriting then rewriting some more in an attempt to make his words sound less annoying - but it wasn’t  _ that _ big of a deal. Not like he would even know who sent this stuff. Bede made sure of that. So, with a deep inhale, the pink-clad boy gingerly placed the gift on the welcome mat, giving it a much too sentimental pat before racing off. Sylveon, following its cue, slapped the doorbell and scampered off after its owner, hiding beside the side of the building. Bede scooped up the pokemon, holding it to his chest while his heart raced inside of him. Was he making a big mistake? Would he even feel any sort of comfort from this? He wasn’t expecting any sort of forgiveness - he didn’t even sign the note! Maybe this wasn’t exactly his best idea.

The door opened with a creak, halting the gym leader’s breathing for a moment. A hefty bleat burst into life from the porch. No doubt that was Dubwool. Bede held his breath a little longer, clutching onto his decently sized pokemon for dear life. 

“Hey, what’s this?” Hop’s voice wafted into the air. Bede could have died right then and there. Already he sounded so different - hadn’t it only been a year since they last spoke to each other? He sounded so much like his brother, but more youthful and bright…. But Bede tried not to think about that too much. “I don’t think Sonia’s expecting a package today.”

_ It’s for YOU, you dolt, _ Bede wanted to scream, feeling his face heat up to a rather unsightly shade of pink. Well, if pink could really be unsightly. But the sounds of shuffling and the following shut of the front door soon ease all the tension from the gym leader’s shoulders. Sylveon squirmed a bit in his hold, but Bede was too busy peeking around the corner. The box was now gone, no doubt in the hands of the professor’s assistant. Everything was out of Bede’s hands. He had technically made his amends, and could live his life in peace. With a smug nod of his head, he left the laboratory and made his way back to Ballonlea.

But then next week came along, and the feelings returned again. Bede could hardly focus on his training because of it; those terrible anxious feelings curled around in his stomach, but this time were tinged in a strange sensation of - dare he say -  _ longing _ . Had Hop read the letter? Had he eaten the cake? Was it good? Did he even like chocolate cake with buttercream icing? Bede paused at that.  _ Everyone likes chocolate cake with buttercream icing _ , he affirmed to himself,  _ those who don’t are soulless and tasteless wretches! _ But still, these emotions didn’t seem to be leaving him any time soon. Sylveon pranced up to him as he stomped out of the stadium, frustrated with his own distraction, and offered a knowing yip. Bede didn’t even try to argue. He just grumbled a frustrated affirmation to the pokemon and hurried back to Ms. Opal’s house. 

Within the next couple of hours, another elegant cake was crafted, just as perfect as the last. This time, though, he decided upon a chaste vanilla batter, along with a basic cooked frosting that was dyed a pale blue. Unlike the last, this cake was considerably more simple, but still managed to hold an elegant touch thanks to the delicate rose sculptures dancing along the top of the cake. While Bede was positive that his last cake was absolute perfection, he figured that a change of flavors could be appreciated. There was no way that Hop would have disliked something so perfect, no? Bede didn’t let himself entertain that thought. 

As he wrapped up his cake, however, he noticed Sylveon trot away from his place at his feet. Before Bede could ask what was the matter, his eyes caught sight of that familiar old woman gazing curiously at the boy from the threshold. Bede grimaced, trying not to seem so guilty.

“A-ah, Ms. Opal, I….”

“Feeling frustrated, I see?” she spoke as plain as day, giving the pokemon a few pats. 

Bede looked back down to his creation, wishing that she would just leave him alone. It wouldn’t be the first time anybody would do that.

“I was just feeling unsatisfied with my performance today during training. Nothing more.”

“Hm… And might I add that you’re looking considerably more pink than you usually are.”

Bede grumbled, raising a hand up to his cheeks. Sure enough, they were warm. 

“D-don’t you have anything  _ better _ to do?”

Opal shrugged, seeming content to watch the boy squirm underneath her sharp glare. He was an adorable little thing, if a bit ornery. Well, incredibly ornery. Eventually, though, she began to shuffle off, waving a withered hand in her farewell.

“Go on - make your delivery before the cake gets stale. Wouldn’t want that sweet little Hop eating a stale cake, now, do we?”

“Ah, yes, of course -  _ WAIT WHAT?!? _ ”

But she was already down the hall, hooting to herself in her crazy old laughter. The pink on his cheeks flared into a strawberry red, burning through his body like he was hit with a powerful Will-o-Wisp. How could she have seen right through him? Was he  _ really _ that obvious? Before he could scream at her that she was misinterpreting things, Sylveon nudged the boy’s side. Well, maybe that could wait until  _ after  _ the cake was delivered. Bede pursed his lips as he finished boxing up the cake, and hurried off to scratch out an acceptable letter to go with it.

_ Just one more should do it _ , he reminded himself as he reached the laboratory yet again, depositing his anonymous gift onto the welcome mat just like before.  _ And then my conscience will be clear and I can focus on more important things. _ He nodded to himself before scrambling away, letting his Sylveon ding-dong-ditch just like last time. 

“Oh, another?” Hop’s voice eventually rang out, snagging something deep in Bede’s chest. “I wonder if it’s from the same person?”

_ Of course it is, you moron! _ Bede silently fumed from the side of the laboratory, waiting for the door to shut. A few moments went by, filled with a strange silence. Bede crossed his arms, trying to ignore the rising sense of dread in his gut.  _ Just take it inside already _ , he wanted to shout. But that’d be unwise, exposing himself in such a childish manner. So the gym leader remained silent, counting the seconds as he fought the urge to peek around. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the door eventually closed, releasing the breath that Bede had been unconsciously holding the entire time. He glared down at Sylveon, who seemed incredibly happy at the moment as it danced around Bede’s feet.

“Alright,” he whispered, pointing a finger at the jovial creature, “that’s the last one. No more after this - got it?”

Sylveon wagged its tail, staring back with those big dumb eyes to its trainer. Bede let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He figured that reprimanding the pokemon would be fruitless, so he just decided to leave now while he had the chance. The last thing he needed was to get caught while engaging in an unsightly shouting match with a rather clueless Sylveon.


	4. Bede x Hop - Just Desserts, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! This is the conclusion to our lovely little two-parter Bede x Hop fic! Hopefully I didn't butcher the prompt too terribly much (though I did get super carried away, for some odd reason, lol). So here's hoping y'all enjoy it and thanks for reading!

It’s hard to really say that his work could possibly follow a routine. There were the basic things that always remained the same, of course; he’d wake up a seven in the morning every day, feed Dubwool before he started eating his bedsheets, do whatever morning chores his mother had waiting for him, head to the lab, basically become free slave labor for Sonia for the next eight or so hours, come home to a few more chores, then pass out on the couch while working on some papers before magically waking up the next morning in his bedroom. That was probably the closest thing to a routine he’s ever had, all things considered. But Hop never really minded the idea of a routine or the lack thereof; so long as he got to have some fun at some point, he didn’t mind. And it was safe to say that being the new professor’s assistant was far from what he would consider a boring life.

But he wasn’t sure how he felt about getting comfortable with someone constantly leaving lovely gifts for him every single week.

The first one came in, leaving the assistant incredibly puzzled. It wasn’t anybody’s birthday, here, so that idea was dashed. Maybe Leon brought it for Sonia? Hop shook his head; he wasn’t so quick to assume something like  _ that _ , especially since Leon had never mentioned anything about giving Sonia presents beforehand. Nevertheless, the youth brought his findings to his boss, who was equally as perplexed as him. So the two opened up the box as well as the letter. A beautiful cake, and an eloquent letter apparently dedicated to Hop. Now  _ that _ was a plot-twist.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer~,” Sonia nudged his shoulder, still giggling at the way he was completely frozen in a state of perpetual embarrassment. Maybe he should have investigated on his own before bringing it to Sonia.

“D-definitely not!” Hop finally found his words, wincing at his voice crack. He thought he had enough of that when his voice started changing. Apparently it wasn’t done with him.

“Oh yeah? What did that letter say? Something about the ‘brilliant radiance of determination reflecting like the sun in your eyes’?”

“ _ Sonia, please _ ,” Hop slapped his hands over his face.

She laughed some more, giving him a good pat on the back.

“Relax - there’s nothing wrong with having a secret admirer. It’s actually really sweet and adorable.” She picked up the letter, flipping it around a few times in her hands. “Though, they didn’t seem to leave a name. Any ideas on who it might be?”

“No clue. I honestly didn’t think that anybody’d actually think of me like that…”

“What? Of  _ course _ they do! You’re a total catch, Hop - not for me though, ‘cause that’s gross.”

“Yeah, gross,” Hop finally laughed, lowering his hands to inspect the cake a bit. It really did look good. Chocolate cake was always delicious. “So, should we eat this now or…?”

“Who, me? No way - this is  _ your _ secret admirer.  _ You _ eat it.”

Before Hop could argue, Sonia sashayed out of the room, snatching up some of the documents she had brought into the room. Once she was gone, the boy simply sighed, glancing back down at the cake. Well, best not let it go to waste. He sat himself down, skimming over the letter a few more times. Who in the world could it be?

A week went by, and he had forgotten about the letter and cake. But they, apparently, did now forget about him.

“Another?” he blushed down at the box on the ground. He didn’t even need to look inside to know what it was. Hop looked around, hoping to find a sign of  _ somebody _ around the entrance to the lab. Nothing but Rookidees. He sighed, kneeling down to pick up the gift.  _ I don’t even know if Lee gets stuff like this, _ he thought to himself, pulling the simple envelope up to investigate.  _ Maybe they left a clue this time… _

But, just like before, there was no discernable way to figure out the identity of the mysterious benefactor. He opted to hide from Sonia’s teasing, hiding himself up in one of the numerous study rooms that the main laboratory had to offer. The letter was similar to before; beautifully crafted words of admiration, noting the many qualities of the assistant that he hardly noticed himself. He could note, though, a strange familiarity in the writing.  _ ‘I had never known shame until I saw myself in your teary eyes.’ _ So obviously they knew each other - unless this was all metaphorical. Hop was never good at metaphorical writing. But Hop didn’t exactly interact with a lot of people, these days. He’d occasionally get to hang out with Gloria if she had time off; maybe it was her? He shook his head at that. The girl wouldn’t know bashful if it hit her in the face. A shy confession like this definitely wasn’t her style. Maybe Marnie. He hoped not. They never really spoke to each other, even during the gym challenge, but that was mainly because Hop wasn’t sure if he was more scared of her or her brother. But fancy homemade cakes didn’t really fit her style, either, so that was out. Who else did he know?

Not really anybody else. He sighed, skimming through the letter a few times more before resigning to just eat the cake and return to work. It was, unfortunately, amazingly delicious. Better than even the fancy cakes up in Wyndon. Whoever this person was, they really knew how to bake; Hop just wished he could finally figure it out so he could thank them or something. Do you even thank secret admirers? How does all this stuff work out? Definitely too much for him to figure out.

Four weeks later, and it became an unfortunate addition to his routine. Friday would roll around, and Hop would eagerly rush through his work without even noticing. Sometimes Sonia would comment, other times, she’d just wink and saunter off. Hop tried not to think about it too much - anticipation really did get annoying, even for him - so he sought to busy his mind with work until the time came upon him.

The clock ticked on, and so did the day. Before he knew it, the sun was setting, the whistle of the tea kettle from the kitchen signalling the end of his shift. Sonia called him over to join her for some tea, usually her way of saying thanks for all his hard work. He had barely walked into the room when Sonia leaned onto the kitchen table, curious eyes searching for some juicy gossip from his own golden irises.

“So, I noticed that we didn’t get any…  _ special _ deliveries today.”

Hop blinked.

“Huh, so  _ that’s _ what felt off today,” he tried to say, hoping that he could save face just a little bit.

“So? Does that mean that you’ve figured out who they are?”

The teenage boy grimaced, running a hand across the nape of his neck. It was a little sore today; maybe he slept wrong?

“Uh, well, uh… not really.”

“ _ Huh _ ?” Sonia slapped the table. Oh no, it’s happening - she’s getting worked up over something that doesn’t involve her again. “You’re serious?! Your secret lover didn’t send you a gift today and you don’t know why?!”

“W-well, th-they’re, uh, not really, um - we’re not -”

“ _ Hop this is serious _ !” she lunged for him, grabbing his shoulders. “This person has faithfully been leaving you sweet gifts every Friday for over a month, now, and just  _ magically  _ stops doing it out of nowhere?!”

“Maybe… they forgot?”

“ _ TRUE LOVE DOESN’T FORGET, HOP! _ ”

This lady really needs to lay off the chick-flicks. But Hop had learned the hard way never to point out stuff like that when Sonia was in one of her manic moods.

“S-sure it doesn’t…” he tried not to sound creeped out.

Sonia sighed, putting her hands on her hips as she sent him a sassy pout.

“I’ve seen this in a show once - the person with unrequited feelings reaches out in their own way to their crush, but then something  _ bad _ happens to them, so the crush has to be the one to help them.”

“I don’t think that’s what happens in real life -” Sonia shot him another look and he promptly shut up.

“Yes, of course!” she smiled, ignoring Hop’s previous comment entirely. “You have to find out who your secret admirer is quickly or else something terrible might happen to them - if it already hasn’t! Maybe they’ve been hit by a car! Or were kidnapped! Or are terminally ill and only your love can save them!”

“How are you a nationally-acclaimed pokemon professor?” he muttered under his breath.

“It’s settled then - here’s your mission, Assistant Hop! Figure out who can bake a cake like that, and you’ll find your true love! Easy, right?”

Hop nodded, not really understanding what she was saying, but was desperate enough to just lie to escape her nonsense. She was probably just overexaggerating like always, but he also didn’t want this mysterious person to be hurt. Maybe something  _ did _ happen to interrupt the once steady flow of kind words and delicious foods? And thus began his search.

As terrible as it felt, the first person Hop went to was Leon. His big brother no doubt had handled situations like this before, so Hop swallowed his pride and approached his brother on the subject. Once he finally got Leon to stop laughing, he explained the whole situation from start to finish.

“Well,” Leon stroked his chin, at least pretending to seem semi-serious, “I don’t think I personally know any high-caliber bakers. But if I’m remembering things correctly, I think Opal is said to have legendary baking skills that practically nobody can compare to.”

Hop grimaced, but Leon quickly waved his hands before his brother full-on threw up everywhere at the thought of Opal being his secret admirer.

“No, no, no! I’m not saying she’s the one sending them - I’m just wondering if she  _ taught _ the person who’s sending them.”

Hop leaned back a bit, trying to think. He didn’t really know too much about Ms. Opal (other than that she was an eccentric rich lady at an unknown age who seems to enjoy dressing people in bright shades of pink). But if there was a chance that she knew the identity of his mysterious benefactor, then he was willing to investigate a bit further. He opened his mouth to thank his brother, but a dark scowl suddenly flashed over his features. Leon blinked.

“Uh… everything alright there?”

“I just remembered,” Hop growled, “that if I want to even get close to Opal, then I’ll have to see  _ that jerk _ again.”

“Who, Bede? Like I’ve said a thousand times, don’t worry too much about him. I hear he’s really mellowed out these days. Maybe all that pink finally seeped into his brain.”

Hop scoffed, but otherwise kept all his venomous comments at bay. He thanked his brother for the help and hurried out the door, making his way towards Ballonlea.

Ballonlea was always a difficult place to get to. A big contributor to that issue was due to Glimtangle Forest, which was basically a mystical maze that had posed as a major threat to countless gym challengers as well as general travellers for years. This is why most people opt for a flying taxi whenever they need to get to the city, but even  _ then _ , some mystical fairy nonsense occasionally will cause a detour for whatever poor soul happened to be flying over the forest. Thankfully for Hop, this wasn’t the case, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervously twiddling his thumbs at the apprehension of having to navigate that nonsensical forest when in such a hurry. 

He jumped out of the taxi, offering a berry to the Corviknight before making his normal dash for one of the most ornate buildings in the quaint town. It wasn’t hard to find Ms. Opal’s house when it was so amazingly decorated - it was borderline gaudy with the amount of pinks and purples passionately strewn about the house’s complex design. He wasted no time, bounding up the fancy front steps, grabbing the old-fashioned door knocker, and knocked. A few breaths passed him by as he shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets. What was he even nervous for?

After a couple of moments, the door opened, revealing the ever intimidating Ms. Opal, the now retired fairy-type gym leader of Ballonlea.

“Well, if this isn’t a…  _ pleasant _ surprise,” she smirked, seeming almost deviously pleased in the teen’s awkwardness. “Running errands for the professor today, hm?”

“A-actually, I, um….” Hop took a deep breath and gathered his resolve. “I’m actually here to ask you something.”

She nodded, tapping the ground a couple times with her cane.

“Of course you are. Come inside, then.”

Before the assistant could protest, the elderly woman was already shuffling away deeper into the depths of the house. Hop could only sigh as he followed behind her. It was painfully frustrating; she took tiny steps and dragged her feet along the somehow pristine wooden floors, so Hop had to take the world’s slowest pace at the constant protest of his long legs. But over the course of a year, he’d managed to attain some semblance of calm, deciding that it would be best if he didn’t complain too much around the person he was seeking assistance from. Once he got the information he wanted, he could run around to his little heart’s content. 

Eventually, Ms. Opal halted just before a beautiful white staircase, spiraling all the way up into the rather tall ceiling above. 

“So, tell me,” she mused through sharp, invasive eyes, “what was it you were hoping to ask of me?”

“I… was curious to know if, um… Well, uh… if you happened to have any knowledge in baking. L-like, y’know, a cake, or something…”

Opal’s eyebrows twitched upwards just a centimeter. She brought a hand to her chin in dramatic thought.

“In my earlier days, I was quite proficient at it. But I don’t bake nearly as much as I used to.”

“Then… is there, um, a chance that you might have taught someone how to bake like you?”

She paused, staring intently at the boy with an amused expression. Hop was beginning to wonder if he  _ really _ wanted the answer to this question. Before he could make up his mind to flee, she let out a small chuckle.

“Ah, but of course. My protege has been trained in everything I know how to teach. Head up these stairs and you’ll find your secret admirer.”

A stone of dread sank into the depths of his gut. Maybe Ms. Opal had more apprentices? It definitely couldn’t be the person he was thinking it was, right? No, that would be silly - impossible, even. But there seemed to be no turning back now. Hop swallowed his fears and slowly began his way up the stairs, trying to ignore the apprehensions racing through his fingertips.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Bede rolled onto his other side, desperate to find a position that made existence a little less agonizing. A dreadful fever had overtaken his body, unrelenting in its rage for the past four days, leaving the normally active youth bedridden the entire time. Hatterene was on nursing duty, constantly checking her trainer’s temperature and switching out his face towel in an attempt to ease the fever. Sylveon was stubbornly nestled under the covers, desperate to get as close to his body as physically possible. Not like Bede could really scold it even if he wanted to; he didn’t want to waste his energy on pointless yelling. So, he reluctantly stayed in bed, allowing his devoted pokemon to care for him while he waited for his body to recover. But a knock on the door earned a frustrated grown from him.

“ _ What? _ ” he hissed, trying to speak through a throat chalked full of phlegm. Hatterene nudged his shoulder, reminding him to watch his emotions. She was a sensitive thing, that Hatterene. Bede sat up, watching the door open and fully expecting to get an earful from that old woman again. So it’s safe to say that his heart entirely stopped when he saw Hop sheepishly shuffle in, wringing his hands nervously before his chest.

This… this couldn’t really be happening, right? No - he  _ must _ be dreaming. Yes, that’s it. This was just a fever-induced nightmare. Bede would wake up in a moment’s notice and be in his bed once more, alone with only the company of his pokemon to rely on, just like always. Just like always.  _ Just like always _ .

“Um…” Hop kept his eyes on the ground, brows knitted tightly together. Bede wasn’t sure if the boy was frustrated, sad, or confused. It all just looked like a blur of emotions constantly shifting across the assistant’s tan face. “... It’s… been a while.”

Bede opened his mouth with full intent to say words, but none dared to come to fruition. So he closed his mouth, pushing his aching body up to his elbows. How pathetic he felt right now, sick in bed with this person who confused him so annoying bad being unable to look at him. Maybe it would be best if Hop just left. At least then Bede would be familiar with the feelings in his chest. He didn’t know what he was feeling right now.

“So…” Hop cleared his throat, attempting to meet Bede’s eyes, but quickly looked off to the side. “I… I just wanted to ask if… if you’re… um…”

The light-haired boy felt a bead of sweat tumble down his brow. Surely it was from the heat of the fever, right? No way was he  _ this _ nervous. No, no, Bede always kept his cool. Especially when beign confronted by the person he sort of kinda maybe almost possibly liked. Not that he did, anyway. Because that would be stupid. And Bede definitely  _ wasn’t _ stupid. Right?

Hop sucked in a sharp breath of air, balling his hands into fists as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you the person who’s been sending me those gifts?” he threw the words out, trying to ignore his own flurry of conflicting emotions going through him at the moment. He didn’t know how to feel about either possible answer. Could he be happy with either one? 

The intensity in the air rose a few degrees, making every breath laborious. Bede glanced towards Hatterene for some sort of support - he didn’t really know  _ why _ he did. She smiled back at him, cooing a few unintelligible sounds. 

Well, by the gym leader’s logic, if Hop was destined to abandon him like everybody else, then it really didn’t matter if he knew the truth, then, right? It didn’t matter of Hop found out this terribly dreadful secret Bede’s been carrying with him for over a year. According to the assistant, Bede was still Bede. Cold. Egotistical. Conniving. After everything that had happened, it was ridiculous to hope that Hop could ever forgive Bede, and nobody could blame him. And even if he could, it wouldn’t last. No, Bede would surely find some way to screw things up, or wouldn’t be enough to make Hop happy in any condition. Hop would leave, and eventually Ms. Opal will leave, just like the chairman and his foster parents and his parents that never came back and 

“So what if I am?” the words hissed past his lips, far more venomous than he meant. Oh well. It didn’t matter. The outcome would be the same, anyways.

Hop flinched back a bit at the sharpness of the other boy’s words, but his conflicted expression remained stable. Once he collected himself, he took another deep breath. Slower, this time, as if to savor the taste of oxygen flowing through his lungs.

“ _ Why _ ?”

A painfully simple question. Remarkably, it was also one Bede hadn’t really expected. He really should have thought this through. 

_ Why _ did he bake those cakes?  _ Why _ did he write those letters?  _ Why _ did he send them to Hop?  _ Why _ did he feel this way?  _ Why, why, why? _

It eventually became obvious that Hop wasn’t going to hear a response. Bede had opted to glaring holes into his duvet, fingers tangling themselves within the fluffy pink fabric. Ah, pink, the color of so many things: sweetness, innocent attraction, adoration, and - evidently - embarrassment. There was no way to hide such a shade from the plush of his cheeks. How  _ bothersome _ .

“... Did you really mean what you said in those letters?”

Bede looked back over at Hop for the briefest of moments, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. Much confliction remained, but there was something else there, now, amid the tempest of clashing feelings depicted on the teen’s face. Perhaps Bede really  _ was _ having a fever dream. No way there was actually a bit of  _ hopefulness _ in Hop’s eyes.

Maybe that’s what pulled out a strange sentence from Bede’s mouth.

“Every word.”

Hop shied his gaze away, seeming a bit more bashful as he rubbed the nape of his neck. Now Bede was  _ really _ confident that he was the color of embarrassment. Maybe a bit too red though. The assistant stuttered an awkward laugh, trying to ease the thickness of the air while Bede shifted a bit more upright. Sylveon didn’t appreciate that motion, evidently, and crawled onto it’s trainer’s lap. Instinctively, Bede ran his fingers through the creature’s fur, desperate to distract himself from his non-fever related warmth. He looked back over to Hop, who seemed to still be processing the gravity of those words, and another sentence slipped out without Bede’s permission.

“Are you going to leave?”

Hop met his gaze, surprised.

“What?”

Bede took a small breath, losing just the smallest smidge of confidence in his words as he took the initiative to repeat them.

“... I said, are you going to leave?”

“Do you want me to?”

Here it was. The moment he had been unknowingly dreading. If he says yes, then Hop will no doubt walk away forever, and Bede would be back in his element of loneliness. Or, he says no, and takes a risk he never expected to take willingly. He would be clueless, a Magicarp out of water, left with nothing to keep himself steady but the hope that Hop would guide him through the confusion. Could he really take that chance?

“... No.”

Bede couldn’t keep his eyes on Hop. This was it, the deepest layer of his person; everything he was had been revealed in only a handful of words, leaving nothing but a fearful child afraid of being left behind by the people he loved. And now Hop could see the truth behind Bede’s every action and every word. This was blind faith in its simplest form, the gym leader unsure of what exactly he was hoping for. 

“Okay.”

His eyes shot back up, genuine surprise (and a tinge of fear) written all over his flustered face. Hop stared back at him, hands shoved deep in his pockets with a curious expression on his face. What could that guy be thinking when he stared at Bede so intently?

“O-okay? Okay… what?” Bede’s voice died down syllable by syllable, reduced to nothing but a faint whisper by the end of it. Hop gave a timid smile. Perhaps a bit afraid, but a little hopeful, still. Such a strange expression on such a tender face.

“I’ll stay.”


	5. Leon x Reader - Uniform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request ~ "Hello! A nsfw for Leon please! His female s/o has a new job that has her wearing stockings and heels. He didn't see her leave that morning, so when she meets him, Raihan, and friends for dinner, he is shook. S/o: what a day, I can't wait to take these (stockings and heels) off! Leon, not thinking: I can do that for you S/o and everyone: ... (Raihan is crackling) Leon, still going: or I take everything else off and leave those Cue terrible blushing and the pair leaving early. Thank you"
> 
> A/N: My soul has left the chat, so I'm writing some of these requests out of order. I'm still working on them though! I just didn't realize how difficult and challenging some of these are for me, haha! Which isn't bad! But I really liked this prompt, so I forced myself through it despite having so many issues writing it - I hope it's readable!

“When’s your lady supposed to get here?”

Leon swatted Raihan’s shoulder, trying to ignore the rising urge to look around the area one more time. 

“She’s just getting out of work, probably. But it’s not too far from here so she shouldn’t be long.”

_ Ah, fuck it _ . Leon glanced around, scanning the plaza one more time. You said you’d be joining the two of them later that day. Leon let himself smile just a little bit at the idea of the three of you finally getting to wind down after a busy day, watching the sunset from the fountain in the middle of Wyndon. Most people were returning home by now, so the three of you likely wouldn’t be disturbed. It was a perfect way for him to finally spend some time with his two best friends. 

When you and Leon first started dating, he was actually a bit worried to see how you would interact with some of his friends. Sure, you were nice and sweet to most everyone, but he had dealt with plenty of partners that turned face wickedly fast if they felt that Leon might care for someone else more. So far, that definitely wasn’t the case with you. You were nice to literally everyone - one of the main reasons he couldn’t help but fall in love with you. It was nice not having to choose between a romantic partner and your friends. 

That being said, it was always a spectacle when you, him, and Raihan got to hang out together. Most of the time, it’s just you holding the boys back from doing something insanely stupid (like the time they considered jumping in an elevator, or the time they wanted to jump into a pitch-black Dynamax hole to see how deep it was). Sometimes, Raihan would decide to mess with Leon and joke with you; it eventually became a running joke that you would leave Leon for Raihan and run away to Cinnabar Island in Kanto together. While Leon was more than confident that Raihan wouldn’t do that and that you wouldn’t leave him, the man couldn’t help but get that little twinge of worry in his chest. You always said that you loved his shyness when it came to displaying affection in public, and you always said that he was the best partner you’d ever had. So why was he worried? Little bits of jealousy would spike up in his chest everytime Raihan jokingly wrapped an arm over your shoulder, or picked you up off the ground in a tight hug. You always reassured him that you and Raihan were just messing with him, and he  _ knew for a fact _ that you weren’t cheating, so  _ why was he worried _ ?

“What’s with the face?”

Leon turned back to his best friend, trying to erase all evidence of his troubled thinking.

“What face?”

Raihan snickered, leaning back on his hands as he gave the champion a toothy grin.

“ _ That _ face. You’re all scrunched up like you’re pissed or something.”

Leon slapped a hand over his face, giving it a quick rub before dropping his hand back down to his thigh. The dragon tamer belted a laugh, nudging his friend in the shoulder.

“Come on, mate - what’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re worried that your girl is five minutes late.”

“It’s not that,” Leon said a bit too quickly, shaking his head as Raihan turned his body to fully face the champion. “It’s just… I don’t know. I’m just… worried, I guess.”

“About what?”

“About… Like… I don’t know. I can’t help but think that I’m not doing enough for her. I mean, she moved all the way from Wedgehurst just to move in with me, and she had to get a new job here. She’s changed her entire life just to be with me, and I - I don’t know - I feel like I’ve hardly lifted a finger.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Raihan slapped Leon’s shoulder, gripping his friend as if that would assuage his fears. “Mate, come on. She’s doing all this stuff because she loves you. And give yourself some more credit: you were the one who helped her get that job in the first place, and you’re always trying to find the perfect gifts for her. Besides, if she  _ really _ had a problem with the relationship, she would’ve said something by now.”

Leon managed a nod. Raihan wasn’t wrong; after all, he’s usually the first person Leon goes to whenever he needs help finding a gift for you. And while Leon mentioned that you didn’t necessarily  _ need _ to work, that he’d take care of you financially, he was also incredibly supportive when you affirmed that you still wanted to work. He called in a couple favors, and eventually landed you an interview at an esteemed business firm. Today was your first day, and Leon wanted to hear all about it, hoping that you liked it well enough. Where were you, anyway?

“Besides,” Raihan pulled back, opting to gaze up at the orange sun that was working its way behind the tops of skyscrapers, “she’s totally stuck on you. I know we probably mess with you a bit too much, but believe me when I say that she’d sooner shoot herself than break her commitment to you. And I wouldn’t do you dirty like that.”

That was just enough to pull Leon’s spirits up a tad. He offered a kind look to his best friend.

“Thanks, Raihan. I needed that.”

“But you could stand to be a bit more brave.” Leon pursed his lips; just like Raihan to build up Leon’s ego before knocking the wind out of his sails. “I mean, you two hardly ever hold hands in public. Much less kiss. How’s anyone supposed to know that she’s off-limits?”

Ah, well, Leon couldn’t refute that. He nodded, resting his hand on his chin to debate more on that idea. However, the sound of heels in the distance caught his attention.

“Hey guys - sorry I’m late!” Leon spun around, eager to meet your vibrant eyes, only to nearly choke on his spit at the sight of you. “I didn’t realize how slow I was in heels.”

Leon never really considered himself an outfit kind of guy. He always appreciated your extra effort in how you dressed sometimes, but internally he felt that there was nothing better than seeing you down to the skin. However, with those black stockings that no doubt had a garter belt attached, and that brand new pair of black pumps, he was beginning to reconsider.

“You, in heels?” Raihan snickered, ignoring the blank expression on Leon’s face. “That’s a change.”

“I know, I know. Trust me, I would’ve rather worn my flats, but policy says that girls have to wear these dumb heels and skirts. But at least it’s cute.”

“Totally,” Raihan elbowed the champion. Leon blinked a couple times, struggling to focus his eyes on your well-made face and not, well,  _ everything else _ . Definitely not the blouse that draped like fine silk around your chest, nor the tight pencil skirt that hung perfectly around your curves. But  _ oh Arceus _ , those stockings and heels…

When it became obvious that Leon.exe was still troubleshooting, you let out a small sigh, trying to distract yourself from the way he seemed outright hypnotized by every movement your legs made.

“Yeah, but I’m exhausted from wearing this all day. I can’t wait to get home and take these damn stockings and heels off.”

Leon blinked.

“I can do that for you.”

Raihan snapped his head towards Leon, a surprised smile on his face at the boldness of Leon’s words. You practically flushed red from head to toe. A part of you wanted to race over there to smack Raihan, who was desperately covering his mouth to hide his snickers, but the other part of you was a bit nervous to get within arm’s distance of your normally shy boyfriend. But Leon didn’t seem to be thinking, as he continued.

“Or we can just get rid of everything else and the tights and heels can stay. Take your pick.”

You could only stare back with a bewildered smile, unable to force the corners of your lips down. Normally  _ you’re _ the one embarrassing him in public, and now??? Raihan continued to laugh, having to shove his head into his hands while Leon kept a serious expression.

“Y-you’re… you’re kidding, right?” you tried to laugh it off.

“No. Pick one.”

You squeaked in surprise, shooting your eyes down to the pavement below to try and steady your beating heart. 

"Th-then... I guess... option 2?"

You could hear Leon chuckle from where he resided, and eventually felt him swing an arm around you once he got close enough.

“Change of plans - Raihan, you’re on your own, mate.”

You attempted to cover your face in your hands.

“L-Leon!”

Raihan gave a thumbs up. You could only cling to your overexcited boyfriend as he dragged you down the street, ready to take action for his bold words. Leon was really starting to like the idea of you coming home to him in that outfit everyday. And judging by the flustered grin on your face, he figured that you were, as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have a request, feel free to comment down below here or hop onto my Tumblr account (@andromedarune) and send an Ask. 
> 
> If you have any questions or just wanna chat, I also have a Twitter (also @andromedarune) so feel free to follow me there for extra info about fics and other nonsense.
> 
> Enjoy this magnificent dumpster fire~


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